I Should Be Over All The Butterflies (But I'm Into You)
by Agentsofsuperwholocked
Summary: And after all that they had been through, after being to hell and back (quite literally), he was almost in a state of disbelieve that they were now getting their happy ending. They said that good things would come to those that waited, something that Fitz had never thought was true, but now, with the woman he loved, lying in his arms, he finally found out, that he believed it.


**Another upload from A03 to here. Hope you enjoy this fic and the title comes from Still Into You by Paramore and Marvel owns all.**

She knew Fitz's mum. She was like extended family to her. They had spent holidays, anniversaries and birthdays together. But for once, Jemma Simmons was extremely nervous to go to Violet Fitz's house, something she hadn't done in years now, not since before they joined Coulson's team anyway.

Now they were going back to see her, after all these years, back to one of the few places in the world that Jemma saw as home, saw comfort in. She had missed that little cottage just outside Glasgow, and she was looking forward to going back there.

She sighed as she curled up, listening to the low rumble of the plane's engines as they made their way back across the Atlantic. "You know," she began, curling up close to him and resting her head on his shoulder. "I can't remember the last time I flew on something that didn't belong to S.H.I.E.L.D."

He had no reply to this. He had spent six months last year travelling everywhere and anywhere to find her, using only what he could get. Coulson had stopped helping after two and half months, saying that he couldn't keep using up resources. He hadn't taken that well, and he now no longer liked to dwell on that. She was here, she was safe and if he could help it, then nothing would ever be able to hurt her again. He looked down at her, and now saw that her eyes were fluttering shut. He placed a kiss on her forehead, and watched as a sleepy smile crossed her face.

He spent the next number of minutes watching the rise and fall of her chest. She was in one of his oversized hoodies, something that she frequently wore when they were relaxing, or at nights when it was cold, and wondered to himself what he could have ever done to deserve her.

And after all that they had been through, after being to hell and back (quite literally), he was almost in a state of disbelief that they were now getting their happy ending. They said that good things would come to those that waited, something that Fitz had never thought was true, but now, with the woman he loved, lying in his arms, he finally found out, that he believed it. And with that thought, he also found himself drifting off.

It was the announcement that awoke them, instructing all passenger to fasten their seatbelts, put their seats in the upright position and make sure that the tray in front of them was securely put away.

As Jemma pulled away from him, reluctantly, her nerves started to come back. Fitz's mum was a lovely woman, there was no denying that, but she couldn't help worry what she would think of them now. Contact with her had been limited over the last few months. Jemma knew she knew she was dating her son, but she hadn't seen her since. Would anything be different? Would anything have changed?

"Jems?" Fitz's voice broke her thoughts, and she turned to face him, beaming at him. She herself still couldn't believe that this was real. There were still nights that she woke up in a panicked state, wondering if it was real. But it was his voice, gentle and reassuring her that it was real, that it was safe, that helped her settle her breathing and coaxed her back into a semi-peaceful sleep wrapped in his arms. "You okay?" he asked, and that's when she realised that she had his hand in her own, squeezing slightly hard.

"Yes," she said, but she still didn't let go. She hated this part of flying, the landing. It was that feeling in her stomach. It reminded her of falling, and despite all that she had been through, she still hated that sensation. It still terrified her.

He didn't say anything, for which she was thankful. He always seemed to understand what she was thinking. He instead, simply raised her hand, and brought it to his lips, allowing soft tender kisses and reassuring whispers to it to reassure her.

Once of the plane and in the airport, luggage in tow, he didn't allow her to walk, instead made her sit atop the suitcases on the luggage cart as he pushed her through the airport and out the front doors to where they would be meeting their taxi. They were early, and in typical Scottish fashion, it started raining, but that didn't deter the two young scientists, who both shared the cart at this point, huddled together for warmth, under the pieces of plastic, supported by metal that the airport called a shelter.

"Fitz," she murmured, half into his shoulder.

"Hmm," he replied, pressing yet more kisses to her forehead, something that she loved. She always wanted them as they lay cuddled together at nights, watching films, or even in the lab, and he was more than happy to oblige.

"I love you." These words were not foreign to her, in fact, they were frequently said, as if she couldn't convey enough just how much she loved him, and she supposed that were true. There could never be words that sufficed enough, would say just how much she loved, just how much that he means to her.

"I love you too," he replied, and allowed her to lift her head up to allow their lips to dance across each other's: tender, gentle and soft and full of so much affection.

They were so lost in each other that they didn't hear the beeping of the taxi horn, and it was when they came up for air that they realised that there was a quite angry Scottish man now blaring the horn at them.

They pulled away immediately (and unwillingly) and Jemma went to reach for one of the bags, Fitz's bags and he shook his head, his curls splashing water everywhere now that they were out in the rain, like a dog trying to dry itself. "I'll do it, you just keep yourself dry."

"Trying to prove something are we Dr. Fitz?" She teased, opening the back door to the taxi and Fitz just shook his head.

"No, Dr. Simmons, you get mopey when you're wet and cold, and it's an hour and a half to mum's and I am not putting up with that."

Jemma supposed she couldn't argue like that. She did hate it in the rain, all cold and wet. And Fitz was no help. He would just laugh at her, saying that she was unaccustomed to the Scottish weather.

It took a couple of minutes for Fitz to put away the cases, and that left Jemma to make some uncomfortable small talk with the driver (really, what could you really say to the stranger who had just seen you have a massive make out session with the man that you loved more than anything?), before he got in beside her.

She turned to face him, beaming. He looked soaked through, his hair falling in limp wet curls around his face. As the taxi took off, she using a tissue she had produced from her handbag (the only thing that she had taken into the vehicle with her) and attempted to dry his face, before rolling her eyes and telling him that he'd need a shower once they got back.

He raised an eyebrow, and whispered in her ear, but not before nuzzling her neck with his nose. "And you, Dr. Simmons, will you be joining me for that shower?"

She looked at him, and waited to answer it, as he started to kiss her neck, his teeth nibbling her ear. She took a sharp intake of breath. "You know the answer, Dr. Fitz."

A sigh of annoyance came from the front seat, along with the radio being turned up louder.

It was close to five once they arrived at Fitz's mother's cottage, and wheeling her suitcase and was just about to open the door when Violet Fitz did it for them. She was a small woman, and immediately threw her arms around Jemma, almost knocking her over.

"Jemma, dear," she greeted. "It's been too long. How are you?"

Jemma laughed, knowing immediately that her worries had been for nothing, "I'm fine Mrs Fitz," she began but Violet cut her off.

"I told you dear, it's Violet. Mrs Fitz is far too formal for me." She pulled away, looking at Jemma. It had been months, years actually, since she had seen her, and so much about her had changed. Both good and bad, but that was not a matter to dwell on. "You're looking well, practically glowing."

Jemma beamed, as Fitz came up, taking her hand in his own. "Hi mum," he said, earning a scoff from his mother, who immediately pulled her son in for a hug, and a kiss on the cheek. "Years I've not seen my son and all I get is a hello mum."

Fitz's cheeks reddened at his mum embarrassing him, but he didn't mind. It was nice to be home, and with Jemma at his side. This was their first time here, and their second holiday, as a couple, and Fitz wanted to make the most of it. They only had a couple of days here, before they had to go back to Radcliffe's lab. It would be another number of weeks before they would be visiting Jemma's parents.

"Come in, come in," his mother said, gesturing them inside, now only noticing the rain. "You'll both catch your deaths out here."

They followed her in, and once inside they threw their wet coats up on the coat hanger. Violet made her way into the living room and Jemma followed, turning to face Fitz. "Are you getting that shower now?"

He shook his head. "I'm off to get dried I'll shower later, you coming?"

She looked down at her hoodie and jeans. They were both damp. She could just get into her pyjamas now, and spent the entire evening relaxing with her boyfriend. "I think so. Get into something comfortable."

He smiled down at her, gently taking her face in his hands and kissing her head. She closed her eyes, and buried her face in his chest, and took in his scent.

"Give me a mo," he whispered and she nodded, feeling him pull away. "Mum!" he shouted, his voice receding he followed his mother. "What time is dinner?"

His mother gave an exasperated sigh. "Is that all you think about Leopold Fitz?"

"Maybe."

Another sigh, but Jemma just shook her head. This was her Fitz all over. Always thinking of food. "Twenty minutes. I put it on when you text me."

"Perfect. Me and Jems are going to get out of these clothes."

Fitz came back to her, taking her hand and leading her up the stairs. "The cases," Jemma said, realisation coming to her when they were half way up the stairs. Fitz cursed and headed back down to retrieve them. But his language did not go unheard by his mother.

"Leopold Fitz! You better not be cursing in my household!"

It was after dinner, and the young couple were curled up on the sofa again, the exhaustion of a long day of travelling finally hitting them. Both had a mug of tea in their hands, and a blanket covered the both of them.

The TV was on, playing some competition on BBC that neither were really paying attention to whilst Violet knitted in the background.

"Any plans for tomorrow?" she asked, looking up from what she was knitting, that looked suspiciously like a small hat.

Fitz nodded, and continued to thread his fingers through Jemma's hair as he answered. "We're going to go to shopping tomorrow, have a look around."

Violet nodded, looking at Jemma, who seemed as though she were about to collapse then and there on the sofa now. "You'll enjoy it. Be able to see the sights. Not that you've not before. Remind me tomorrow to get you details for the new Italian place just off High Street. You'll love it. It's supposed to be romantic."

"Sounds amazing," Jemma whispered, wondering if it were possible to be more at peace than she were now. "We should go for lunch tomorrow."

Fitz nodded. "Sounds like a date."

Jemma laughed and resumed watching the TV but not taking anything in, just being in this moment, here and now was enough for her.

Three quarters of an hour later, the show ended and Fitz took the empty mugs and set them on the coffee table. "Ready for bed?" he asked.

A yawn was his answer, and once he was standing he held out a hand and helped pull her up out of her position, despite her protests that she was comfy there.

"Have a good night's sleep," Violet said to them as they left the living room.

"You too," Jemma said. "And thanks for everything."

"No problem dear, just have a good night."

"I will."

"Night mum," Fit said, allowing her to pull him in for a hug.

"Night. See you in the morning."

He nodded, and led her away.

When they were half way up the stairs, Violet had one last message for them. "Oh, and don't be too loud!"

Fitz was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter early the next morning. They were taking one of the first buses into the city centre, wanting to make the most out of the day.

"Is Jemma okay?" his mum asked, as she bustled into the kitchen. Fitz bit his lip as he looked at her, setting down the slice of toast that he had just been about to eat. Jemma had awoken in the middle of the night from a nightmare, and not known where she was; the change of environment had disorientated her, leaving her to awaken in a room she wasn't familiar with, which was what had caused more panic. It had taken a while for her to calm down, for him to convince that she was safe.

He nodded slowly. His mum knew little of what they actually did for work, and he was glad that she did. If she knew everything they had been through, he dreaded to think. "Just a nightmare. She's okay now."

"Awk, poor thing. It's not nice. You used to get them all the time as a child. We had to get you that herbal stuff remember?"

He nodded, remembering the vial drops he had to take.

"Do you think she would take them?"

Fitz quickly nodded his head. This was not something that he wanted to be discussing with his mother not now. "She has them. I got them for her. But she doesn't like talking about it."

Violet nodded, knowing that they were probably bad, in the line of work that they both came from. "So you have it?" she asked, changing the subject.

Fitz swallowed his tea nodding, and then closed his eyes. He was really going to do this.

"Ready?" Jemma asked, having now entered the kitchen. "And what do you have?"

"My wallet. You know how I forgot it last time."

Jemma rolled her eyes, remembering very well that time. "We're not having a repeat of that."

"No. We. Are. Not." Fitz answered, placing a kiss on her forehead after each word.

"You'll have time for all the affection later," Violet said, ushering them out of the door. "Now go! You don't want to miss the bus!" and under her breath, "Wouldn't be the first time."

The day had flew by, quicker than either of them had wanted it to. They had both enjoyed their day in the city, hitting not only the big shops, but small ones, located in streets that lead of the big ones.

Jemma had been thankful to be able to get to all the bookshops, both the big chains and some small independent ones they had found, and managed to buy a number of books on her to read list. Fitz had given up trying to convince her to get an e-reader, she said she much preferred the look of a bookcase and being able to keep them all in an order, to show off what she's read.

They did have their lunch in the Italian place after all, and Violet had been right. It had been romantic, and one of the nicest places that she had ever eaten. Though, she couldn't help but notice that throughout the meal, Fitz had seemed somewhat distracted and Jemma couldn't help wonder what had been worrying him.

It was in then, in the back garden, gently swaying to and fro on the porch swing that Jemma had the idea. "Fitz," she said.

"Hmm."

"Is that tyre swing your dad still made on the oak tree?"

"Yeah, why?" But he didn't even need to ask that question. He knew what she was going to suggest.

"For old times' sake."

"You, Dr. Simmons, just read my mind."

This got a laugh from her, something that had been so rare not that long ago, but now was so frequent. The sound was soft, care free to his ears, as if they both hadn't suffered so many traumas. Fitz often wished, no matter how much it now defined them, no matter how much it was part of them, that she hadn't gone through any of that. He hated the demons that she fought at night, the demons that plagued her mind that he couldn't protect her from. But despite everything, it made them who they were, and if going through everything for her meant that they would get their happy ending, it would do it many times again for her.

"Fitz!" came Jemma's voice. She was already half way across the grass, droplets of water gleaming in the moonlight as she danced around, seeming so youthful, as if this were just another holiday they were having like they used to, back before the team (except with more kissing, not that he was complaining). "Come on!"

He was already up, running towards her, chasing after her, and once he caught up to her, he lifted her in the air, swinging her around, as she gave squeals of delight and tried to no avail to escape.

"You're mine now," he whispered, as they both adjusted themselves so she was facing him. She wrapped her legs around him, leaning down and kissing him, rough, with her hands digging into his curls and his hands making their way up the back of his shirt.

"Are we not going on this?" he asked and she nodded, her breath hot against his skin. She climbed from him onto the swing and allowed him to push her, and she flew high into the night sky. As she gained more and more height, Fitz had to take a step back, to avoid being hit when Jemma noticed something.

"Are they?"

"Yes."

"I didn't know you got them here."

"Course we do, they're always here this time of year. I don't think you've ever been here to see them."

"Neither do I? Do they mind people?"

Fitz made his way to the glowing orange dots in the night sky. Fireflies.

"Wow," Jemma breathed as the tyre swing came to a gentle stop. She climbed out from it, and walked over to his outstretched hand, and he spun her in the orange glow, watching her face light up in amazement. It was truly amazing watching her facial expressions. She couldn't believe what she was taking in and her joy spread to him.

And he decided it was time.

He let go of her hand, and once her back was turned, he reached into his back pocket and got down on one knee.

Once she had turned back to face him, it took her a moment to fully comprehend what she was seeing in front of her. Her hands covered her face in shock and tears already had started to make tracks down her face.

"Jemma Simmons," he began, trying to stop his voice from breaking but not succeeding at that task. "I love you more than words can describe. That day we met all those years ago, I… I… Jemma, you are the one that I want to spend the rest of my life with, I just couldn't imagine my life without you. It's not even worth imagining. I want to have adventures with you every day," and by this point he was crying and so was Jemma. "I want to dance in fireflies with you every night. I want to have early mornings with home-made pancakes and dancing in the rain. There's no better way I want to spend my life than with the woman..." He paused for a moment, either trying to think, or to compose himself, possibly a combination of both. "What I'm trying to say, Jemma Simmons is will you marry me?"

She nodded and allowed him to place the ring on her finger, before he pulled her close, hugging her. He couldn't believe she had said yes, that they would be getting married. That Jemma Simmons would be his wife, the woman that he would wake up to every morning, that she would be the last person that he would see every night. That they would have all these memories together, a future that would be the two of them.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, taking in his features, and a million and one thoughts passed through her mind, and in one of the few moments in her life, she couldn't comprehend any of them. All were joyous, excited. She was going to start a new adventure with the man that she loved, they would be together for the rest of their days. They could start a family, something that they both had wanted. After everything they had been through, they were here. Now. In each other's arms as fireflies danced around them and the stars shone their light down upon them.

Jemma had always thought of them as one entity, not knowing where one began and the other ended. They had picked up mannerisms and quirks from the other, they always knew what the other was thinking and feeling, they were the same person.

And in this moment, the night of their engagement, they were truly infinite. They were truly Fitzsimmons.

 **In the original plan, I never meant for this to happen but it spiralled and this happened. The engagement speech was so hard to write, and I only managed to get through it with the help of Sleeping At Last, the most FitzSimmons music to ever music. I wanna say a massive thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed.**


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